


An Empathetic Savior

by NightmareGuardian



Category: Smallville, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Copy-Cat Power, Empathy, Empathy Power, F/F, F/M, Gen, Human Turned Kryptonian, Katie McGrath as Lena Luthor, Krypton, Kryptonian, Kryptonian Biology, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Kryptonians, Kryptonite, M/M, Multi, Other, Pink Kryptonite, Power absorption, Seer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareGuardian/pseuds/NightmareGuardian





	An Empathetic Savior

When Sylvia woke up that morning, it was normal. Get up, hygienate, clothe, eat, bus, school, eat, home, homework, sleep, repeat. 

It was normal. Sylvia got up, brushed her hair, teeth, and put on deodorant. She put on makeup and did her hair it it’s usual  [ updo ](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/40/41/c8/4041c810ab55ff369536065fdb29d57e.jpg) . She was very unique, Sylvia. She was Scottish and a bit of a steam-freak. That explained her  [ outfit ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e6/8b/ff/e68bffc9ebdc46c5b8a3128ea5da926d.jpg) . It always consisted of basically the same thing. As she stepped onto the bus, she sat on the seat beside Pete and Chloe. They were her only friends. Kinda. She was nice to nearly everyone, but no one really hung out with her all the time like they did with Clark. 

Speaking of, the bus stopped at Clark’s “driveway”, waited for 5 seconds, then continued on. He hadn’t been outside again. 

Turning, Sylvia saw Clark run to where the bus had stopped. 

Chloe held up a 5 dollar bill and Pete took it. “I can’t believe you bet against your best friend.” 

“Statistical fact: if Clark moved any slower, he’d be extinct.” 

Sylvia sat normal and looked out the window. She whipped out her earbuds and started her music, hoping to get lost in the familiar tune and start the day off well. Looking out the window, she saw something zipping through the cornfield. Forcing herself not to react, Sylvia closed her eyes. She knew strange things happened in Smallville, but, unless they came knocking on her door, she didn’t particularly care. 

*

They got off the bus and Sylvia went to throw her stuff in her locker, except her laptop bag. Her book bag could rot if it came down to a choice between the 2. She walked back to the court and saw Clark walking over to Lana Lang. 

Pete held up the 5 dollar bill. “Give him 10 seconds.” 

Sylvia shook her head. “5,” she corrected, placing her bet. 

Chloe started counting. Once she hit 5, Clark stumbled over his own feet and fell to the ground. 

Sylvia took the bill. “Statistical fact,” she reiterated what he’s said earlier. 

“Clark Kent can’t get within 5 feet of Lana Lang without turning into a total freak show,” Chloe continued when she realized Sylvia wasn’t. 

Whitney tossed Clark another book and the latter fell, dropping everything. 

Feeling sympathetic, Sylvia walked over to him. She helped him pick up his books again and put her stack on his. “One more,” she said, seeing another one. She went to put i8t on the top of the massive stack, but Clark reached out for it. They touched for the first time ever and she gasped, suddenly feeling warm inside. The sun was nice against her neck as it was behind her. 

*

It was football tryouts and Clark and Sylvia sat in the stands. Sylvia watched the plays as Clark watched Lana. “You’re staring,” she said. 

“I’m day-dreaming of not being a total freak.”

“Embrace the weird, Clark.” 

Pete walked up to them and Clark fell back into his daydream. 

*

Sylvia walked home that day, enjoying the view. She came across the bridge which held the tell-tale signs of a crash. She whipped out her mobile and called 9-1-1. As she reported to the operator, she saw someone dragging another someone out of the water. She ran down and saw it was Clark dragging Lex Luthor. “Clark!” she yelled. “Is he breathing?” 

Clark bent down and listened for breath sounds. He came back up and turned to her. He shook his head. 

“Start CPR!” she ordered before she started telling the operator what was happening. 

“I-I can’t! I don’t know how!” he responded. 

“Just-” 

“I don’t want to break his-” 

“You’re gonna break his ribs no matter what. That’s the only way you know you’re doing it right!” 

Clark flailed his hands about, showing his discomfort. 

“Oh, for the love of the Gods!” Sylvia thrust the phone at him. “Stay calm. Answer the questions as best you can. Be clear when you speak.” She started compressions, counting under her breath. When she hit 30, she got down and gave him 2 breaths. Waiting for no longer than a second to see if he started breathing, she started again when he didn’t. She was counting again and gave him another 2 breaths before he coughed up water. “Oh, thank the Gods!” she exclaimed. “This one doesn’t know how to perform CPR and I’m supposed to switch with someone else after 2 minutes.” 

Lex coughed. He saw Clark and muttered, “Coulda sworn I hit you.” 

Sylvia turned to Clark, reaching to examine him. “Did he?” she demanded, her Scottish flaring in concern. 

“No!” Clark insisted. “I jumped in after him and pulled him out.” 

Sylvia turned to Lex. “He saved your life.” 

“You saved his life,” Clark insisted. 

“Well, I couldn’t very well give CPR in the water.” 

Sirens sounded and they all turned to them. 

*

They all had shock blankets were separated to give statements. 

“Clark!” Sylvia heard. She turned to see an older blonde who was definitely a country man. “Son, are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Clark reassured. “I’m okay.” 

The walking stereotype turned to a cop. “Who’s the maniac that was driving that car?” 

“That would be me.” Lex had walked up behind Jonathan. He held out his hand. “Lex Luthor,” he introduced himself. 

Jonathan just looked at his hand, taking off his jacket. 

Sylvia turned back to the cop in front of her and continued telling him what happened. 

Jonathan turned to Sylvia. “You got someone coming to pick you up?” he asked. 

“No, I’m walking,” Sylvia told him. “Once I’m done here.” 

Jonathan turned to the cops. “Is the little miss done?” 

The Sheriff nodded. 

He turned back to the Scot. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.” 

“That’s really quite unnec-” 

“I insist.” 

Sylvia looked to Clark who gave her a look. She sighed. “Very well.” 

“Do you have a name?” Lex called out to her. 

Sylvia stopped walking up the hill, turning to the Luthor heir. “Yes,” she responded, nodding. She continued and Clark helped her get over the last rock. “It’s easier going down than up.” 

While in the car, Jonathan asked exactly what happened. Clark told him, “I was standing on the bridge when I heard the crash. Lex had driven over one of those wire poles and he was headed right for me. Thankfully, I dove out of the way in time, but he went over the bridge. I dove in after him and pulled him out. Then Sylvia got there and performed CPR. Thank God she did too. I didn’t know what to do and I don’t know CPR.” 

“Your son was quite the hero,” Sylvia said from the backseat. When Clark opened his mouth to argue, she cut him off. “Turn here,” she told Jonathan. 

*

The next day, when she got home, there was a limo parked in front of her “home”. The door opened and Lex stepped out. “You’re very difficult to track down.,” he said. 

“Well, if I made it easy, no one would want to,” the Scot said. “Clark called. He said… you got him a… truck. That was a bad idea.” 

“Yeah, I came by to see what I could get y- Wait. Why is it a bad idea?” 

“His dad is set against you.” She tilted her head. “And your father.” Sylvia held out her hand to gesture for him to come in. 

“Are your parent against me?” he asked, walking onto the porch. 

“They never met you,” she replied, going just inside the door. “Tea?” she offered. 

Lex shrugged. “Why not.” 

Sylvia smiled, filling up the kettle. She turned on an eye and pulled out a lighter. She held it close and pulled back an instant later. The stove was not partially on fire. She put the kettle on top. 

“You know, microwaves work fine too,” Lex offered. 

Sylvia chuckled, moving to sit at a table. “Old habits die hard. Especially when you aren’t trying to get rid of them.” 

Lex sat across from her when she gestured. “So, your folks don’t judge the Luthors before they meet them?” 

“I don’t like talking about my family with people I just met. I don’t even talk about my family with Clark.” 

Lex nodded in consent. “Okay, so…. Your name?” 

Sylvia smirked. “Sylvia. You haven’t quite earned the last name.” 

“I could always find out on my own.” 

Sylvia’s smirk deepened. “You could try.” She walked inside to fetch the whistling kettle. She poured the hot water into a teapot and set it onto a tray, bringing it out. The tray had 2 mugs, three little bowls, and - of course - the teapot. “Have you ever had tea before?” she asked. 

“Not like this,” he replied. 

“Okay. So, play around with it. Add milk and sugar and see if you like it. If you don’t we’ll start over.” Sylvia gave him a breath-taking smile. 

*

In  _ another _ day, Clark, Chloe, Pete, and Sylvia sat in front of a computer. 

“His name is Jeremy Creek. This is a picture of him 12 years ago. This is one I took 4 hours ago.” 

“That’s not possible,” Sylvia muttered. 

“Yeah. Must be a kid who looks like him,” Clark agreed, turning to lean against the desk. 

“My money was on the evil twin theory. And then we checked his missing persons,” Pete said. 

“Jeremy disappeared from the state infirmary a few days ago. He’d been in a coma for 12 years. They say he suffered from massive electrolyte imbalance.” 

“That’s why he hasn’t aged a day.” 

“So, you’re telling me he just woke up?” 

“Well, no. The hospital had this huge electrical storm and the power went out. And when it came back on, Jeremy was gone.” 

“All that electricity must’ve charged him like a battery,” Sylvia muttered, shaking her head. “Okay, got it. But why’s he in Smallville, taking out jocks?” 

“He was the Scarecrow,” Pete explained. 

“Beg pardon?” 

“The Scarecrow is a tradition where, before the big game, the football players chose a Freshman to string up in a corn field, stripped to their boxers, and painted with an ‘S’,” Clark explained. 

Sylvia put her hand over her mouth in shock. “That’s macabre.” 

“How does no one know about this?” he asked Clark. 

“Presumably because only the Sophomore boys tell the Freshman boys to dissuade them from pissing off the football team.” 

“Why do you have to use such big words?” Pete demanded. 

“It is my desire to expand your mediocre vocabulary.” 

Pete made a frustrated move with his hands. “Google!” he exclaimed. 

Sylvia chuckled. 

Clark read the newspaper article, “Comatose boy found on field 20 yards from Meteor Strike.” 

“The explosion of the blast must’ve done something to his body,” Chloe said. 

“This can’t be right,” Clark insisted. 

“I think you ‘ought to show him,” Pete said to Chloe. 

“Show me what?” Clark asked. 

*

“It started out as a scrapbook and just kinda mutated.”

“What is it?” Sylvia asked. 

“I call it the Wall of Weird. It’s every strange, bizarre, and unexplained event that happened in Smallville since the Meteor Shower. That’s when it all began. When the town went schitzo.” 

“What do we know about the Meteor Strike?” Chloe proposed. 

Sylvia reached up and brushed her hand again a picture. “That  was the day I was born.” 

Everyone turned to her. “You’re 12?” Chloe asked. 

“ _ 13 _ , thank you.” 

“How are you in-?” Pete started. 

“I skipped a few grades.” 

They all stared. 

“ _ But _ ! Other than that?” she got the ball rolling again. 

“How are you 13 years old?” Clark asked. 

Sylvia shrugged. “Only legally. No one bothered to correct the year.” 

She stepped closer to the newbies. “So what’d’you think?” she asked. 

“Why didn't you tell me about this?” Clark asked, walking over to the wall. 

Chloe huffed in annoyance. “Do you tell me everything that happens in your life? We all keep secrets, Clark.” 

“Lana? My fault. It's all my fault,” he muttered. 

“What are you talking about? Of course it isn’t,” Sylvia tried. 

And he walked out, ignoring her. 

Sylvia turned to Chloe, shrugging. “Will you go to the dance with me?” she asked. 

Chloe smiled. “Definitely.” 

*

It was a bit later, the dance was in full swing, but Sylvia needed some air. So, she walked behind the school, taking deep breaths. 

“You should go,” a man’s voice said lowly. 

Sylvia jumped, turning to him. She laughed. “You startled me.” 

“You’re foreign,” he noted. 

“You can use that term if you like.” She held out her hand. “I’m Sylvia.” 

Jeremy smirked. He took her hand, shaking it. 

“Jeremy, right?” she asked. Then, suddenly, she gasped. 

Jeremy dropped his hand. “Yeah,” he muttered, frowning. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

Sylvia held up her hands. Lightning crackled between them. “Wha?” 

“Go home,” he ordered, turning around. 

Sylvia swallowed and the lightning faded. She turned. “My date’s still inside.” 

Jeremy frowned, watching her go inside. He turned to the sprinkler system, debating whether or not to do it. He decided the bad outweighed the good and opened the box. 

*

Sylvia went inside and danced with Chloe. And the rest of the night was normal. They were all happy once again. Except for Clark, who never showed up. 

 


End file.
